


Breaking Lightning

by asthiathien



Category: Space Battleship Yamato | Star Blazers
Genre: Apocalypse, Dark, Death Fic, Extended Metaphors, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asthiathien/pseuds/asthiathien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one had ever been able to see, because there is no one in the universe like them.<br/>They are not these fragile mortal shells, They are so much <em>more</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Lightning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nova](https://archiveofourown.org/works/401470) by [icarus_chained](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained). 



They didn't see.

They had never, ever been able to see.

But Desslok had known, he had known the moment the _Yamato_ shattered the barriers between dimensions and left tattered threads in her wake. And he had known it again, when his world had burned and broken beneath her vengeance, beneath the fierce, desperate hatred and the determination to bring the world down around you, if you couldn't find a way to win.

And he knows because he is the same, because he fought for the same reason, and when Death tried to enfold him in her numbing embrace, he fought free and battled through the frozen shadows between the worlds. Not because it would save lives. Not because he could bring about a rebirth of his world. Gamilon was already dead, it was only a question of how long she would take to fade.

No. It was because, at the heart of it, he _understood_ the _Yamato's_ fiery desperation, and the need to bring the world to its knees before you even as you died.

And Zordar, who laughed and smirked and grinned with power and the love of conquest, didn't understand. He brought the world to its knees because he _wanted_ it, wanted to break the universe open before him and exult in its fracturing.

The Terrans didn't either, not the ones who had remained Earthside while the _Yamato_ had burned through everything in her path, not because of hope, but because they wanted to see him _burn_.

The children huddle broken at a warlord's feet, chains wrapped around their small, weak bodies, innocent despite the wars they have seen, and the few warriors stand tall behind, holding their weapons upon those atop the dais. Zordar laughs in the face of their weapons, beckons forward his guards as he mocks them for fools.

But they aren't looking at him - none of them are, and instead their blazing eyes look upon their former enemy, standing beside the throne and looking upon them all dispassionately.

 _Why?_ Wildstar's eyes say, bright and shining and yet so, so dark and shattered, the eyes of one who has seen the apocalypse dawning and flown beyond the horizon upon wings of fire and death.

 _You know why,_ he tells them, even as he holds up his hand and gestures for the guards to stand down, even as he slowly descends the steps towards them, and they can understand each other in a way no one else will be able to understand, shared darkness and broken mirrors stained with blood.

And Wildstar smirks darkly into that savage knowledge, grins into the face of a broken king whose eyes burn with hatred and wrath, because they all can see each other's hearts, shared destruction and devastation wrought in the name of unholy vengeance, and _oh,_ how they understand each other, they broken few. _Yeah,_ Wildstar's grin tells him as he steps forward into the apocalypse, and he laughs, a little, because it _is_ funny, isn't it, how no one ever _sees_ until it far, far too late. _I do._

Desslok smiles into Wildstar's bloodstained grin, as they move to strike each other down, and the watchers don't see beyond their physical selves, when the slowly-spreading shadows are just as important.

They are not like the others, whose physical beings are the sum of their existence. They are so much _more_ , fire and death and Armageddon and the echoing screams of dying worlds.

 _The apocalypse is dawning, Derek,_ Desslok tells him as they circle each other, slow in these first steps of their lethal dance. _And all the world will lie shattered at our feet._

And Wildstar grins, sharp and dangerous and lethal as he steps forward and breaks the fragile line that holds the stars in balance. _All I want is a good seat to watch the universe burn._

No. They are not like these fragile creatures, whose lives are blown away so easily in the wind. Their eyes burn with the forbidden fire of Megiddo, and they are so much more than merely these transient bodies.

No, they are destruction and unholy vengeance. They are not angels. They are _gods_ , wrathful and destructive and terrifying in their broken majesty as they bring the world to shattered knees.

They are Apocalypse, and their spirits were always meant to burn.


End file.
